Simple Pleasures
by thepossibilityforjoy
Summary: This story is not one for those easily triggered by suicidal thoughts etc. This story is based on both Kate Beckett's life and my own, it's AU but also stick's to some storyline. It's deep, it's pure and it's raw. It's completely different to what i usually write, but it's how i feel sometimes, just know you're not alone in life, okay? Stay strong and i am always here.


It always began the same way, the same no-where relationships, the same "it's not you, it's me story" before they gathered up their overnight bag and left. That's how it's been for the last 3 years, different guys she thought she loved walking in and out of the door, meaningless relationships, broken promises, words of disappointment and disgust, screams of hatred and heartbreaks, leaving her to sit alone in her apartment questioning every reason as to why she's like this, why no man could ever love her.. Why she's so.. Broken...

It originally all began with Will Sorenson, the F.B.I guy who left for Boston, the one who tried to make her leave her life here behind, who told her that she needed to stop with her mother's case. She can still remember the words exchanged between them before he walked out the door, leaving her behind with the one addiction that could take the pain she's feeling in her heart and take it somewhere else. Okay, so I lie just a fraction, the first time it all happened was the night her father and herself came home to find detective raglan waiting at their home, telling them that their wife, their mother would never be returning home again, that she had been stabbed and left in an alley to die. That night her father picked up the bottle and she picked up a blade.

That night always brings her to tears, always feels like with each breath she takes she feels her heart break, makes her heart hurt, makes her feel like she's slowly dying. She remembers feeling numb, feeling like she's in a horrible nightmare and no matter how hard she pinches her skin, no matter how hard she slaps herself, no matter how hard she punches that wall, she still can't wake up. She remembers the look on her father's face, the look on his face when he first took that swig of alcohol and let it burn and scorch his throat. She sat there, she watched as he drank himself to oblivion and not once did she stop, not that she could stop him even if she tried. How are you meant to tell your father that everything is okay, that it will get better, when you don't even know yourself? She sat in the bathroom that night, crying, breaking down alone, and hiding from the world when she first saw the glistening of the blade. It attracted her, the way it looked, I mean sure it was still trapped in its case being a razor, but that didn't stop her, she found a way, just like she always did. She remembered picking up the small blade, it feeling so light in her fingers. She remembers bringing it to her skin, at the base of her wrist, lightly dragging it across, not drawing blood, just giving that small feeling of what it would feel like... so she does it again, but this time pressing harder, she presses down dragging it slowly, pressing down and she drags it down, only for a few seconds before bringing her hand up to start all over again. She pauses halfway through, watching as the blood from the previous cuts and the blood from the cut she is midway through doing runs down her arm and drips on the floor. Surprisingly enough, she's not ashamed of what she feels at the moment, she's not ashamed that she resulted to self-harming, for the first night she smiles. It's not the type of happiness smile, the true smile of someone, it is one of those barely there smiles, the one in which she uses when she's found the alternative to take her pain away...

So that's how it's been since she was 19. When times got tough, when she couldn't handle what life was delivering her way, she grabbed the one thing she could cling onto, the one thing to distract the pain she was feeling and take it to another place. She's done it countless times, on different days, sometimes even hiding in the bathrooms at work when a case has hit too close to home or she's thinking of her mother. Sometimes it'll be when she's at home, on certain anniversary's like mother's day, her mother's birthday, Christmas and even father's day, because even though her mother was murdered, that day she lost her, she also lost her father. It happens, she came to terms with it a long time ago that this was her way of dealing with things, sure it may not be the best way to deal with it, but it's her way and it makes her feel good.

She's always had heartbreak happen in her life, she's always been better at being alone then having someone to lean on, then to putting your life, your heart into someone else's hands for them to control you, control your emotions, how they have the power to make you stronger, make you weaker, fix you or shatter you, she always keeps herself at a distance, never lets anyone in, until she meets Richard Castle...

* * *

 **This is the first time i've ever written something like this and i know i will get some hateful comments from people, but that is okay.  
I am a self-harmer, I have severe depression, anxiety and i'm in recovery for an eating disorder. I lost my mum 3 years ago and my dad turned to the bottle whereas i turned to the blade, yes i have been and gotten help, but there are still times when the blade is the only thing that can help me. I promise you as this story develops it will lighten up, i hope you give this a chance, and if anyone you know, or you are struggling with any suicidal thoughts, or struggling with self-harming, please note i am here for you, you can message me, comment here and promise to help you in any way i can, you are not alone, stay strong, im proud of you.**

\- thepossibilityforjoy xx


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